


Carry On

by SleepGlue



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hand Job, Intimacy, M/M, Nudity, Sleepy Sex, not even really a hand job
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 04:30:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8236139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepGlue/pseuds/SleepGlue
Summary: While Sirius is lying low at Lupin's he carries on the best he can with Remus.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BluBerd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluBerd/gifts).



> BluBerd, this is not the fic you deserve, but it's a start. <3

“Moony.”

Remus looks up from his book with tired eyes that sting even in the dim light. In the days following a full moon he is not always appreciative of this nickname.

“Remus.”

As his initial apprehension ebbs Remus’ shoulders relax and Sirius steps into the room.

“I thought you’d be asleep by now.” He doesn’t sound disappointed exactly, but sympathetic maybe. At the very least there is concern in the downward curve of his mouth. He crawls onto the bed without invitation and dog-ears the page Remus is on. 

“What are you doing?”

Sirius doesn’t answer, just calmly sets the book aside and begins to unbutton Remus’ pyjama top. This is not the first time this has happened, but it’s the first time since Sirius had appeared on Remus’ doorstep with new of Voldemort’s return. There are new scars and scars that are old but new to Sirius. He’ll take inventory later, but for now he discards the flannel top and tugs insistently at Remus’ waistband until Remus gives in with a sigh and slips them off. Just as soon as he’s done this Sirius has his own shirt over his head and before any protest can be made he has a lap full of naked Sirius. 

This doesn’t feel the same as it did fourteen years ago. Their bodies are not young and there’s an ache in Remus’ hips that reminds him of this fact. Sirius has lost all his lean muscle and his ribs cast shadows. There’s a roughness to his skin, like aged parchment, and Remus worries that his fingers might snag or tear as he folds Sirius into him. Remus has grown softer and years of full moons have not been kind to the integrity of his own skin. When Sirius shifts forward it becomes obvious to each at the same time that the other is a little bit hard. 

“I just want to be close to you,” Sirius says by way of explanation or apology. “I’ve been so tired.”

“I’m here,” Remus assures them both. He reaches between their bodies and rediscovers the feeling of their cocks together in his fist. Sirius shudders against him and his forehead drops to Remus’ shoulder. Remus moves slowly. His elbow is caught between them and supported on Sirius’ thigh as he gives his wrist a sluggish twist up and then down. 

Remus closes his eyes and for a moment he is twenty years old again: moving with slow familiarity on a lazy Saturday morning. Sirius sleepy and hungover and dependant on Remus to hold his weight while they kiss. There’s nothing but a war outside to get them out of bed, out of each other’s arms. 

Fourteen years later and there’s another war and life has brought them both so low, but they have managed to find each other again. Sirius digs his fingers into Remus’ lower back and makes a sound somewhere between a gasp and a sigh. Remus flexes his fist again. Neither one is hard anymore, but the touch is more a reassurance than anything. 

When the fingers on his back slacken Remus realises that Sirius has fallen asleep. A fond sigh follows this realisation. Remus keeps his arms fully around his old friend as he eases them down onto the bed. Sirius rolls easily onto the pillow and Remus reaches over him for his wand to snuff out the candles. 

Things will never be the way they were before the 31st of October, 1981. It’s impossible to pick up where they left off and Sirius probably knew that before he crawled into this bed, but he had tried anyway. They are not the same men they were, changed not only by time but by isolation and uncertainty. They will never be able to drink all night, sleep in late, then fuck slowly in the afternoon sunlight. They will never have the life they planned for themselves and they will never get their friends back, but they have each other. Remus has Sirius tangled in his arms, breathing against his throat, and that’s more than he could have asked for.


End file.
